The sky bled black rain onto the backs of the blue-eyed pirate riders, who rode flying beasts, while hurling ice spears at commercial riders who in turn tried tried their best to evade or attack.
The sky had become a battlefield, the bodies of the unfortunate thrown into the roaring sea, a bottomless, realm that threatened to swallow anything that came in contact with it.
Waves the size of skyscrapers swirled chaotically, sometimes crashing into each other; wind was strong enough to lift any normal man; and random lightning strikes that did nothing to quell the darkness beyond.
But in this chaos, one would be drawn to the main fleet, pirates who commanded the sea calming the roaring waves as they passed laughing in the face of stray lightning.
The lead pirate ship was humongous (200 feet of survival, designed to ride monstrous waves). The double hauled craft, when observed simplistically looked like two canoes strapped together similar to a wa'a kaulua but at a much larger scale.
